


For It Is the Beginning of Always

by FlufferNutterButter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sombra is Olivia at first, The Wicked and the Divine AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlufferNutterButter/pseuds/FlufferNutterButter
Summary: "It's happening now. It's happening again".All she ever wanted was to be one of them. The gods made real. In a world where godliness is close to stardom, ascending is the holiest honor, and descent the sweetest damnation.She wanted it all.





	1. Act 1, Scene 1

It started with the three of them. It was always the three of them.

 _Mictlantecuhtli_.

He heaved once, twice. Black smoke, miasma, gunk? Poured out of his throat and swirled on the ground beneath him.

Something was wrong.

He looked up at his friends, now bathed in their own ethereal glory, the light of the sky that they now represented.

He opened his mouth and fought back the flood of words? Verbalizations? that threatened his voice-something bizarrely prophetic, no doubt- and settled instead for “What the _hell_?”

R- _Ana_ , he fought against the name that bid at his mind, _Ana,_ reached a hand to help him up, but he batted it away and wiped at his mouth. Black liquid stained his lips, and he spit as he stood.

“Are you fu-are you kidding me? Fucking-” he coughed, again, black came up, “ _Sky gods?_ Both of you?”

They stared him down, confusion on one’s face and resignation writ on the other’s.

“We didn’t choose this. You know that. We didn’t choose who we are any more than you chose to be…”

“Mik-tan-tek-ti?” Zeu- _Jack! His name is Jack!_ Stumbled over the sounds, foreign on his tongue.

He snapped. The name that he had been pushing down, away from the surface, was ever so broken, through.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“You can’t hide from this. It’s who you are now.” The confusion that had been all over his face was replaced with that God-awful stern, “responsible” look. Great. He was going to be made an idiot of again. Jack was going to be the hero, the good one, the one who was reasonable. He was going to be the reckless, rebellious one, all over again.

Fine.

Fucking _fine._

The fury ran through his veins, and his vision started going dark. No, he realized as he saw his… as he saw their expressions, this wasn’t just his eyes. He was disintegrating.

Even as he supposed his vocal chords became smoke, even as he melted into the ground, he managed to choke out, though it felt as if it went against his very being to do so.

“I’m Gabriel. Gabe. I am Gabe.”

 

_Six Months Later_

Her phone buzzed, reminding her of when and where she needed to be. As if she’d forget. Her search-and-deploy program meant that she knew when every one of the performances was, which god was performing, where, practically as soon as they themselves knew.

She just had a few finishing touches before she would head out.

The silver-and-amethyst makeup was her own personal touch, her own signature. Purple and pink, black and silver, if she were one of them, _if she were a god_ , these would be her signature colors. She finished braiding half of her hair back and dusted it through with glitter. She took the eyeliner and drew dynamic lines towards her eyes. She adorned each of her fingers with silver rings. It was never too much.

It was never enough.

But it would have to be good enough, for now, because she was really pushing her time limits. Sure, she had every part of this evening planned to a T, allowing for any hitch to be managed within a reasonable margin, but there were limits even she wasn’t willing to push.

She tucked her phone in her pocket after double-checking the time and place and pulling up her (forged, of course) front-row ticket.

Nothing but the best.

 

She knew of him before, followed him extensively. He was a star before he ascended, and he used his godhood to further his humanitarian causes. After he became Lingadua, she’d seen all of his shows, been to all of his parties and had even gotten backstage on a couple of his shows. Tonight, that would be her in.

He was such a chatterbox.

She had his feeds-even the gods’ chatroom wasn’t airtight-and heard about the all-exclusive show tonight by the ever-elusive Susanoo, whom she’d only heard of performing twice before. She couldn’t pass this chance up. She’d already seen almost all of the other gods perform, those who did perform, anyway (But not Vishnu. Fuck Vishnu).

Zeus’s grand performances upon a pedestal.

Ra’s quieter, more meaningful gospel.

Sakhmet’s fiery passion projects.

Minerva’s fun-filled extravaganzas.

Lingadua-of course she’d seen Lingadua.

Hell, she’d even been damned by Lucifer. _Twice._

She hadn’t visited the underground, yet, but that was more lack of dedication than anything else. Too many fakers wanting glory, posing as underworld gods.

But Susanoo was almost as avoidant as Ammavaru, who hadn’t had a performance since the fateful night of her ascension. And now, he was giving an exclusive show (to whom? Who was lucky enough to get a ticket to this show? Apart from her, of course), and she was in.

 

Her breath caught in her throat. Front row.

He was right there. Hair fanned out behind him, lifted by some sort of godly wind. Gold lined his eyes. His tattoo on full display.

They said he was a mob boss’s son before this. They said he was trapped.

How could anyone trap anything so magnificent? How could anything so powerful be trapped at all?

She’d never felt anything like this before. The other gods performed. This?

This was raw. Powerful. He was glorious. He was…

He was looking right at her.

 _Oh God._ Her breath caught in her throat. _Oh gods._

A chill came over her, like the calm before the storm.

And then she was out.

 

She came to on a cot.

First thing, she kept her eyes shut and listened. There was someone nearby.

“Y’know, I helped put together the guest list for this little shindig…”

_Oh God. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh-_

“I’on’t remember an Olivia Colomar on it.”

She opened her eyes, deciding to cut her losses. She gave the god above her a sheepish smile, hoping that the “in over her head” card would be enough to pull her out of this situation.

Above her, in a white suit and white hat, smoking a cigar and grinning, was the Devil himself.

He tossed his head back and laughed. “Don’t you worry none, I ain’t gonna turn ya in. Think it was pretty ballsy, comin’ in here like that. Like yer a part of this crowd.” His eyes narrowed. “Tricky of ya, gettin’ in in the first place. How’d ya do it?”

Olivia sat up and gave him her best glare. He barked a laugh again.

“Alright, alright. Whatever.” He took a drag on his cigar and looked her over. The gleam in his eye, smug, like he knew he had her (he did, he absolutely did), never left.

He walked away, tapping his ashes into a trashcan, and called over his shoulder.

“D’you wanna meet him?”

That was enough to get a surprised “Huh?” out of her.

“Susanoo. He’s deigning the commoners with his presence, or somethin’. Blessing the blasphemers. Educatin’ the stupid.”

“Do you ever stop talking like you have all the cards?” she asked. He leveled her with a look, eyes alight, lips smiling around the cigar.

“You tell me.”

 

 

The interview room was just the lounge. A few sofas, big windows, a bar in the corner. When Lucifer opened the door, this was, surprisingly, what she noticed. Then, she registered the people in the room.

First, at the center, was Susanoo himself. Every bit as regal as he was onstage, but now incredibly more poised, as if his performance was simply a break, a reprieve.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her eyes catching on the other god in the room.

Lounging on another sofa, as relaxed as one could possibly be, but with an incredibly sharp eye. Rumor had it that Sakhmet acted as a bodyguard for the other gods, even though she was a god herself. She perfected the look of not paying attention when she was, in fact, aware of everything going on.

She offered up a short wave to Lucifer.

“I see you brought a friend,” she said, giving Olivia a critical eye. She froze, remembering what happened to the last person who stepped on the gods’ toes. What Sakhmet did to them.

“Olivia here’s my personal guest, ‘Reeha.” Olivia quirked an eyebrow at the nickname before remembering. _Right. Sakhmet, previously Fareeha Amari. Ascended four months ago._ And then, wondering, _Did they know each other before?_

Olivia Colomar had basic knowledge of all of the gods. It wasn’t particularly well-hidden, but kept enough that fanatics couldn’t show up to the houses of the families and claim to know them. She scanned her memory of the information, trying to draw the connection between Sakhmet, aka Fareeha Amari, and Lucifer, aka Jesse McCree. Nothing pinged.

She felt as if her skin was crawling. She was missing a piece.

She hated missing a piece.

Olivia turned away from Sakhmet’s piercing gaze, focusing on the other people in the room. There was Susanoo, of course, and in front of him was a woman she didn’t recognize. Tall and slim, with short red hair, wearing a suit. They seemed to be deep in conversation.

Off to the side, near the bar, stood a man only a bit older than she. He looked over the room with an air of disdain, though it was really just barely-concealed jealousy.

 _Right. Susanoo is Hanzo Shimada. That makes him Genji Shimada, the brother who was left behind._ Olivia knew what it was to want, to desire what the gods had. She could understand the animosity that came from being so close to someone who ascended without you, who left you behind.

“-as I was saying, Mr. Shimada, I just wish to observe.”

Susanoo looked to be near the end of his rope, jaw set. “Forgive me, Dr. O’Deorain, but I believe you just did.”

“In a loud concert hall full of screaming fans and flashing lights, yes. Far removed from the performance itself. I admit, I don’t understand the draw of your ‘pantheon’ and their performances. I don’t feel the draw that others claim to. It’s a puzzle, Mr. Shimada, one that I intend to solve.”

“An’ what exactly are you hopin’ to find at the end of yer search, doc?” Lucifer stepped forward.

“I’m not sure, Mr. McCree. Drugs? Mob mentality? Smoke and mirrors? What is it that drives your fans so that they attest to these experiences?” She smirked. “What drives you to think that performing makes you a god?”

Olivia stepped forward-to do what, she wasn’t sure-but whatever she was going to say died on her lips when the windows imploded.

_“Hit the deck!”_

Someone bowled into her. She met the rug on her hands and knees, hiding behind the sofa. Above her, practically on top of her, was Genji.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She wasn't listening.

“Is everyone alright?” Susanoo echoed his brother’s sentiment. Everyone had ducked for cover, but now, Lucifer stood. Olivia could see one eye glow red as he strode to the center of the room.

“Say, doc, you wonder what makes me think I’m a god?” he led, voice low.

“Jess, don’t,” Sakhmet said at the same time Susanoo urged, “Jesse, no!”

He held his hand out, two fingers and thumb extended. Olivia fought the urge to laugh. A finger gun?

And then she heard him.

“ _Bang_.”

Across the street, two red dots appeared on the roof. As soon as they came, they were gone, and two bodies fell to the streets below.

He turned back to the room, to the doctor, whose face was aghast. His guest, too, was shocked, but he saw a smile on her face when he comically blew over the tops of his fingers, like blowing off a smoking barrel. He then turned eyes back to Dr. O’Deorain.

“Maybe it’s the miracles.”


	2. Act 1, Scene 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows Olivia's address, somehow.

The courtroom was solemn.

Except when it wasn’t.

“Your Honor, it seems like believing me guilty seems to be believing in magic. Now, what kind of precedent does that set?”

Beside her, Genji snorted and then winced as his brother elbowed him. Though he was two seats away, Susanoo’s sigh was clear to Olivia. She hid the entirely-inappropriate-in-court smirk that the idea of a long-suffering Susanoo and a reckless Lucifer gave her.

“Mr. McCree, you’re in contempt of court. I would advise you against doing anything stupid.”

 _Too late_ , Olivia thought, listening to the chants of Lucifer’s many fans outside the courtroom. The fanatics came in waves, pounding and demanding his freedom. When they got too rowdy, even the great deceiver looked uncomfortable.

“They’re insane,” she said under her breath.

“Easy for you to say,” Genji whispered. “You’re lucky to be a fan-on-the-wall. If you weren’t in here, wouldn’t you be out there?”

“Of course not.” _I’d be watching from the security cameras._

“Pssh. Liar.” Olivia rolled her eyes at him. He glared, having no right to look that decent when they’d all been up since the early hours of last night when the cops had arrived. Olivia knew for sure she looked like trash. “You snuck in, didn’t you? No way you were on the guest list.”

“What fucking god has an exclusive A-List guest list for performances? Isn’t the whole purpose to inspire? Inspire the rich, more like. The ones who don’t need the inspiration. Sure, go ahead.”

“Both of you, _shut up_.” Susanoo hissed at them. The judge was still talking.

“-an outstanding and frankly unique case, the facts cannot be ignored.”

“Your Honor, with all due respect, did you forget that _they’re_ the ones who shot first?”

“ _Free Lucifer!_ ” The doors burst open and in barged fanatics, waving signs and torches and…

“Fuckin’ _Christ_ ,” Lucifer said, head falling to his hands. Yep, those were guns.

It all sort of popped off after that.

 

No less than ten hours later, Olivia was finally within the comfort of her own home. Home may have been a bit of a stretch for a one-room studio below street level, but it was all she needed. She just couldn’t wait to get out of her clothes, take a shower, and finally lay down for a bit.

A knock came at the door.

“ _Hijo de puta_.” She threw a clean shirt on and stomped to her door, undoing the three physical locks and turning off the electronic alarm. _“What?”_

Genji Shimada stood there. A telltale glow surrounded him, though it was fading, and the fury that began clawing up her throat like bile led her to slam the door in his face.

“ _Hey_!” He barked, pounding on the door again. She threw it open.

“What do you want?” she spat.

“Um…” he was taken aback at her attitude, and it took him a minute to recover. “Sombra?”

She grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him inside. His training let him easily shift his weight so that he could throw her if he needed, and when her hand went somewhere he couldn’t see, he grabbed her wrist just in time to see a glint of metal drop to the floor.

“What the fuck? Were you going to stab me?”

“Listen up, _pendejo._ You never, ever call me that. You never say that _ever_ again. Got it?”

“Shit, fine.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I just-a friend told me that you used to go by that name.”

Olivia ushered him away from the door and shut it, engaging the locks. As Genji looked around the studio, she hissed.

“Anything else _Vishnu_ told you?” She put all the venom she could muster into the name.

“I mean, not just Z-Vishnu.” She straightened at the mistake. “Lingadua, too.”

That caused her to turn, wide-eyed.

“Really? Lúcio remembers me?”

He shrugged. “More or less.”

She scoffed. “Liar.”

“Why don’t you come ask him yourself?”

She gawked at him. “Bullshit.”

He shook his head. “Some of us-some of the gods, I mean, I’m not-anyway, some of them don’t like the way the Lucifer situation is being handled. Vishnu knows your skill, and Lingadua remembers a ‘hacker girl who could do anything’. Hell, you snuck into last night’s show, didn’t you?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Basically, word is you can dig up information. If we can find out who shot at us, maybe we can make a case-that they were trying to kill us, that Lucifer acted in self-defense, we can get him out. But none of us can do what you can. What do you say?”

There was no question. Of course she would do it.

 

The next afternoon, Olivia Colomar had a pass to get into the high-security holding cell where Jesse McCree, aka the god “Lucifer”, was being held.

“Well, well, well,” a voice greeted her as she entered. Lucifer, looking more downtrodden and disappointed than he’d had a right to. “Look who it is. Word on the street is, you trade under a different name.”

“Does everybody fucking-look. I’m here as a favor of, uh…” she realized she didn’t know exactly who was on her-Lucifer’s-side, and who was against. “Genji.”

Lucifer’s expression was impossible to read.

“We’re trying to build a case for you.”

Nothing.

“The others couldn’t come.”

Nothing.

“I’m the only one who could get in here.”

Lucifer quirked a brow. “You’re used to flyin’ under the radar, aren’t ya?”

There was a chair in front of Lucifer’s cell. She sat in it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was like you, before all of this. Lay low. Nobody noticed some two-bit kid from the tracks. Headin’ down a path I wasn’t gonna make it out of. Only one person was there to pull me out.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“You ain’t got anybody like that, do ya?”

This was different. Far gone was the charismatic “I-may-care” persona. This was who was underneath. The luster was gone, and for some reason, Olivia was really okay with that. She huffed. “That’s a really funny way of saying ‘thank you for coming to see me in prison and trying to get me out’.”

“I could be that.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that.

“Ya hear of Brunhilde?”

“Of course.”

“I could work you the same deal. Get me outta here, and you be my number one. My right-hand.”

She sneered, despite herself. “Prison rotting your brain already? I’ve already signed up to help.”

“No. Listen.” He leaned forward, speaking low. “You don’t get it, not yet. In here? I’m nothin’. I’m gonna wither away and die. If I’m not out there, performin’, inspirin’, this?” He gestured to himself.  “Ain’t worth shit.You say y’all are building a case for me, that ain’t good enough. I’m askin’ you to get me out. Whatever it takes.” He sat back, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Ya gotta smoke?”

Olivia shook her head. “Mm-mm.”

“Shit. Well, no harm in askin’.” Lucifer stood and stretched. “One more thing. People like us?” He met her eyes with a serious gaze. “We’re more likely to have friends in low places. Now buzz off, kid. Every second here’s a second wasted.”

Olivia stood to take her leave, but turned as she reached the door. “One thing. You and I? Are nothing alike.”

“Keep tellin’ yerself that, kid.”

 

Someone was waiting for her when she got home.

“How does everyone keep getting my address?” she grumbled to her new guest, who brushed past as soon as the door was unlocked.

“I followed Genji here,” said Dr. Moira O’Deorain. Olivia sighed, walking around her guest and setting about to make coffee. It was looking to be a long night, and it wasn’t even five.

“What do _you_ want?”

“You’re trying to break him out, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. News flash, _amiga_ , he’s kind of an asshole, when you get past the god stuff.”

“Dear, I could have told you that. They all are. In order to believe that one is a god, one must have an incredible ego.”

Olivia cut her eyes at her guest from the coffee machine. “And you don’t? Dr. Moira O’Deorain, with your four PhD’s and doctorates. Molecular biology, genetics, abnormal biology, and what, the recurrent pantheon one was just for fun?”

Moira took her coat off and draped it over the kitchen chair where she found her perch. “I’m not egotistical. I’m realistic. You certainly did your research, didn’t you?”

Olivia sat a mug on the table in front of Moira and took a seat herself. “You’ve been on every VIP list since the second Ra performance. Rumor has it you’ve spent a lot of time in the Underworld-underground. But it’s not just rumor. You leave your apartment for days at a time and come back in the middle of the night.”

“Stalker.” Moira smirked over her mug.

“Informed,” Olivia countered.

“Well, it seems we have ample to offer each other, then.”

Olivia sat back in her chair. “How so?”

“I have the access you so desperately crave-don’t give me that look, it’s obvious. You have the resources I need.”

Olivia said nothing.

Moira leaned forward. “I’ll even strike you a deal. I can get an audience with the Pantheon. In return, I’ll let you take the easier task.”

“Which is?”

“Not everyone shows up to the Pantheon meetings. I need someone to meet with the others.”

Olivia Colomar nodded. She understood.

She needed to go to the Underworld.

 

Six months ago, Gabriel Reyes, Ana Amari, and Jack Morrison ceased to exist. In their places stood the Pantheon’s new Trinity: Mictlantectuhli, Ra, and Zeus. Given powers and identities to align with these gods, the three set out to build their own Pantheon.

Within each of them was the power to share this gift. In return, all the gods had to do was inspire. Bring light to the world.

Since then, new gods had appeared. Each of the Trinity amassed their own following, though it was only as a single unit that they were the true Pantheon.

Susanoo.

Lucifer.

Sakhmet.

Lingadua.

Vishnu.

Ammavaru.

Hermes.

Zywie.

Ala.

Thor.

Osoosi.

Woden.

Giltine.

Minerva.

The names on everyone’s minds, on everyone’s lips.

Olivia knew, could feel it in her heart, that one day, she’d be one of them.

She’d be one of them, or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That list there? Those are the gods I have planned for this. Any one of them is up for grabs for an origin story, so send in requests, either based on god name or Overwatch character you want to know more about.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Overwatch AU based on the comic book series The Wicked + The Divine. The plot follows for the first few acts, with a few alterations, but diverges pretty strongly later on.
> 
> I'll post separate chapters in between normal chapters regarding the ascension of certain characters. This will be on a request basis. Tell me who you want to know about!


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